At Last
by AliceFranklyn
Summary: A Zick oneshot based on the song At Last by Etta James


_At last,_  
_My love has come along,_  
_My lonely days are over,_  
_And life is like a song. _

He stepped off the plane into the cold, muggy air that was Holby's, air that almost tasted grey, as if the colours of the buildings and roads had seeped into the sharp metallic tang of the breeze, infiltrating his lungs. It had just begun to rain and people round him were holding bags and jackets over their heads to prevent the water droplets from reaching them, but Nick stood with his face turned to the sky, letting the water wash over his face, a welcome contrast from the stuffy plane interior. Marvelling at the power of the dark, purple clouds swirling above him, he smiled slightly. Michigan's summer months had been swelteringly, stiflingly hot and clear. The sun had penetrated everything and been far too bright, and the repetitiveness of blue sky, blue sky, blue sky had become superficial very quickly. There would never have been anything as volatile as this in Michigan. A hostile shout from behind brought him back to his senses, and he realised he'd been blocking the plane exit. Apologising hastily, he hurried down the plane stairs towards the main building.

Most people would have loved the heat of Michigan, the fast-paced city life and the noisy, busy nights, but he had only stayed because of the work. If he had been twenty years younger, he would have been in his element, but he wanted quiet evenings in, and the odd meal out not surrounded by inebriated teenagers, maybe a couple of weekend breaks in the country. Holby was where his heart was. He knew the streets better than anyone and the little shortcuts and alleyways were like parts of his own mind. Coming back here was like returning home; even though he had no house here, there were little pieces of his heart imprinted all over the city- the hospital, his old flat overlooking the river, favourite restaurants, that bench in the park where he would sit and listen to music, Zoe's flat. His heart swelled fit to burst. He was finally going home.

He weaved his way through his fellow travellers who were walking frustratingly slowly. His determination to overtake them earned him a few dirty looks and even a shout as he almost knocked someone over, but he barely noticed. It had reached his brain that he was closer to her now than he had been for months. She could be miles away, or metres away. The thrill of her being so near to him made shiver. The thought that he could see her in a matter of days, or even hours spurred him on and he pushed his way through a group of people who were taking up the entire corridor.

_At last,_  
_The skies above are blue,_  
_My heart was wrapped up in clover,_  
_The night I looked at you._

Finally exiting the artificial light of the airport, he breathed in the fresh air. The rain had doubled its efforts to soak everyone it caught, and the storm clouds were rumbling in the distance, blocking out the sunlight and making the three o'clock afternoon feel like a dark evening. He paused, taking in yet again the refreshing air, letting it fill his lungs and his mind, clearing away all the fogginess of jetlag and headache. He debated whether to take a taxi or to ring Charlie, maybe he'd come and collect him. But as his eyes scanned the rain-blurred horizon, searching for a taxi point, he saw something that sent freezing shivers down his spine, and simultaneously made him feel blushingly burning hot.

If the air was like darkness, she was like light. She looked radiant, the dim light catching her, making her look like she was shining whilst the surrounding people had cleared around her naturally and the wind was blowing her hair and clothes so that she looked like she was in a scene from a film. The absence of a coat or an umbrella meant her purple dress was slowly turning darker with the rain until she nearly matched the storm clouds. Her hair was beginning to drip with water and stick to her face. She was standing straight, looking directly at him, her face lit up by some kind of internal glow, stretching onto the smile that he knew and had missed so much. His insides seem to melt at sight of her. Nothing mattered as long as she was there.

_I found a dream that I could speak to,_  
_A dream that I can call my own._  
_I found a thrill to press my cheek to,_  
_A thrill that I have never known._

He walked towards her, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face. People walked in front of him, but he barely noticed, keeping his eyes fixed on Zoe. He narrowly avoided a speeding taxi and reached the pavement on which she was standing. He dropped his bags and stopped in front of her. Close up, he saw that her mascara was beginning to run down her face with the rain, her fringe had been swept back over her head by the ever-increasing winds, and her cheeks were slightly flushed by the cold, harsh air. But her eyes were shining like lights in a storm, and there was nothing but promise written all over her face.

"Hey, you," she spoke softly, her voice barely audible over the loud rain hitting the pavement, but he heard her. Her words made him feel like he was having an electric shock: his skin was tingling all over.

"Hello," he replied. She smiled out loud, a tiny laugh that had echoed in his dreams so often. He swallowed, trying to remember how to speak, "so did- how did you know I was here?"

"You said you were coming back today, and this was the only flight." She smiled at him knowingly with her tongue poking out slightly through her teeth, revelling in the fact that she had surprised him; she almost had the upper hand.

Her smile made him feel like he was on fire again, so he looked up at the sky so that she wouldn't see it in his face, "horrible day."

She laughed incredulously, "Jesus, Nick, if we're talking about the weather, we're doing something wrong here," at which he blushed and rubbed his forehead. "Anyway," she said, following his gaze to the now thundery sky, closing her eyes slightly to stop the rain falling in them, "I love it."

Looking at her jaw line, he gulped and then jumped- "Zoe, you must be freezing, do you want my jacket?"

He began extracting himself from his sleeves, but she laughed and put his hands on his arms, "Nick, we're not in a crap romcom, you don't have to be all gentlemanly. That's not really how we worked, is it?"

Her touch on his arms made the fireworks he had felt earlier feel like birthday cake candles in comparison to bonfire night. But one word had stuck out. "Past tense?"

She was still holding him, and she did not let go as she spoke, looking up at him with her eyes wide and the sort of look on her face that he had thought about most while he had been gone, "that depends."

How had he never realised that her eyes were not just brown, but a sort of mix between the black coffee she drank like water and the kind of whiskey he indulged in on a Sunday evening? "On what?"

And then she reached up round his neck, winding her arms close until their noses were almost touching "on this."

As she kissed him, his skin was made from burning embers, his heart thrumming with desire, his mind gloriously cloudy. Every fibre in his body was crying out to be with her. They wound themselves together so tightly that it was difficult to tell which limb belonged to whom. As the rain continued to fall over them, the thunder rumbling away in the sky, the first flashes of lightning burnt across the sky, but they barely noticed: for them, the rest of the world had stopped turning.

People walked by with their own cares; their own destinations; their own lives, not even noticing that for two people in their vicinity, everything was falling into place.

_You smile, you smile,_  
_And it's a spell that's cast,_  
_And here we are in heaven,_  
_For you are mine,_  
_At last._


End file.
